


Costume

by Kangoo



Series: LGBT Destiny Month 2019 [13]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Blindness, Gen or Pre-Slash, LGBT Destiny Month, M/M, Vance has Big Gay Feelings for Osiris, Worship (implied), everyone judges vance for his choice of clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 06:52:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19204159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangoo/pseuds/Kangoo
Summary: Vance's first meeting with Osiris doesn't go as planned





	Costume

**Author's Note:**

> vance is annoying and osiris is a dick. obviously, i love them

“Hey. Vance?”

Vance stops, a page of the Book of Osiris held aloft in his still hand, the fingers of the other still brushing the raised letters of the last page. He turns his face to where the Guardian’s voice originated. He’s been sitting there, pestering him, for close to an hour now, and Vance is ready to bash his head in with the very book he’s holding. It’s hard enough to read when you’re blind, let alone with Razel chit-chatting next to your ear.

“Yes?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Why do you dress like… _that_?”

The page held in his hand crinkles lightly as his fingers tighten reflexively. He very carefully, very deliberately lets it fall and folds his hands in front of him.

“Like _what_?”

“Well, like a… cultist, I guess.”

“Well. I’m sure that in your precious Vanguard’s opinion, we _are_ cultists.” He smooths the folds of his robes and says haughtily, “Although if you must know, these are the traditional robes of the Followers of Osiris. We wear them as a show of respect and worship to him.”

Razel makes a dubious sound. “But you’ve never even _seen_ Osiris. Why dress like this if he’s not going to see you do it?”

(Vance ignores him, after that.)

 

“What are you _wearing_?”

Vance startles, stumbling back at the unexpected voice and almost tripping on his own feet.

The constant coming and going of Guardians got him used to the sudden apparitions of strangers, but usually he hears them coming from a mile away. They’re not exactly stealthy, not even the Hunters. They can’t hide from the attentive ear of a man like him — a life of following the elusive trail of a man like Osiris teaches one to _listen_. The constant threat of the Vex helps, too.

But this one came in perfect silence, without even his footfall to warn of his arrival.

More importantly, it’s a voice Vance recognizes. Apart from a few Guardians — his few favorites and the most annoying — he is rarely able to put a name to their voice. Too many of them pass by and then disappear for months, even years. But this one—

How could he not recognize it, when it belongs to the man he has been blindly — figuratively and literally — following for years?

Without a second thought he falls to his knees and bows his head like a supplicant in front of his god. His heart is stuck in his throat, making the passage of words impossible. What could he say, anyway, to Osiris? What would be worth saying?

Now that he’s paying attention, he can hear it — footsteps, quiet as a cat as Osiris comes forward. He is still surprised by his presence, how close he is, how real he feels. He freezes, almost afraid to breath, as if it the slightest movement might break the spell, make Osiris disappear.

The Warlock clicks his tongue and tugs Vance’s hood off. His breath stutters when a gloved hand cradles his face, tilting it up into the light. His heart doesn’t miss a beat. Instead it hammers in his ear, the only part of him that’s moving.

“You look ridiculous,” Osiris says after studying him for a moment. “You must be… ‘Brother’ Vance.”

All he can muster is a slight nod, not daring to risk dislodging the hand still lingering on his skin. His mouth is dry, his breath shivering out of his chest.

Osiris inhales like he’s about to say something, then stops. He sighs, very quietly, and steps back. Vance immediately mourns the loss of contact, the warmth of his hand against his cheek.

He licks his lips, almost brave enough to speak—

Osiris is gone.

It’s an instinct, a feeling, more than a fact, but he knows it to be true anyway. There’s a weight to the air in the presence of Osiris, similar to the pressure before a thunderstorm. A kind of static, the faintest smell of copper and ozone, a feeling of vertigo like standing at the very edge of the Infinite Forest. He notices it as soon as it disappears.

Slowly, part of him hoping he’ll come back, Vance rises to his feet. Nothing. He’s shaking from the short meeting, limbs jittery with anxiety and elation. He sways in place, has to hold on to his desk before he falls back down.

He stays like that for a long time. Breathing in slowly in a vain attempt to abate the frantic beating of his heart.

And then he goes to change.

 

Razel is very smug the next time he sees him, he can just _hear it_.

Vance doesn’t bother to tell him his new choice of wardrobe has anything to do with _his_ input.


End file.
